


Of Come Downs and Confessions

by SabbyStarlight



Series: Cold Open Challenge 2020! [2]
Category: MacGyver (TV 2016)
Genre: (Seriously blink and you'll miss it but it's there), Cold Open Challenge, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Mild Jack Whump, Very Mild Mac Whump, s01e12 Screwdriver
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-07
Updated: 2020-07-07
Packaged: 2021-03-05 00:54:48
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,796
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25125793
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SabbyStarlight/pseuds/SabbyStarlight
Summary: Day two of the Cold Open Challenge!1x12 ScrewdriverExplanation as to why Jack was at Mac's place when the actual episode began.
Series: Cold Open Challenge 2020! [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1818619
Comments: 17
Kudos: 51





	Of Come Downs and Confessions

**Author's Note:**

> Have I already tagged this cold open once? Yup. When I was done writing this did I immediately begin thinking of other tags I could do for it? Also yup. Because this is without a doubt my favorite cold open of the entire series and one of the best moments in the show. I’ll never get tired of watching it, so hopefully you don’t get tired of reading what I add to it.

“Damn, my head is killing me,” Jack muttered, reaching a hand up to rub at his eyes, trying to ease some of the pounding resonating behind them but only pulling at the bruise on his forearm and making himself wince. He shot a frustrated glare at his other arm, hindered, despite his best efforts to convince the familiar staff of Phoenix Med that he didn’t need it, by another IV.

“Don’t even think about it,” Mac warned, easily tracking Jack’s train of thought. It was no secret that his partner wasn’t a fan of needles on a good day and it had been a fight to get him to allow another line put in. “I’m not letting you rip another one out. I let the first one slide since you were so out of it you didn’t even notice you pulling it out with that hug. Leave it alone.”

“I want outta here, Mac,” There was still enough of the drug coursing through his veins that his voice was nearly a whine. “C’mon, help me out. Please? I’m feelin’ fine, wanna go home.”

“You were just complaining that you had a headache. And your heart rate’s still running low,” Mac offered a sympathetic smile. He was no stranger to the desperate need to break out of medical confinement. “You already conned them out of the twenty-four-hour observation period and convinced them to let you go home once your stats are stable. You’re not getting a better deal than that, take that as a win and don’t argue about it.”

“Don’t get to go home,” Jack muttered, not quite under his breath to make sure Mac knew he was complaining, as he carefully adjusted his sore arm over his eyes, blocking out the light from the overhead fluorescents that never dimmed as much as he wished they would. “Get stuck havin’ to follow you home and bother you for the weekend. That ain’t a win.”

“I mean, technically you’re not following me home. You’re riding with me since you’re not allowed to drive.” Mac teased.

“Not funny, hoss,” Jack warned, sending him a glare from hidden beneath his arm. “I don’t need you trailin’ around, watching my every move. I’m fine. Just need to sleep it off.”

“We’re still talking about you, right?” Mac leaned forward, elbows on his knees as he grinned at his partner reclining on the hospital bed he had begrudgingly been forced to lay on. “The guy who, about half an hour ago, would have hit the floor if I hadn’t been helping him walk to the bathroom?”

“You just happened to be standing close by when I got a little dizzy,” Jack protested. “That’s all that was. And I’m feelin’ better. You heard ‘em say this stuff works its way out of your system fast. I’m good to go, seriously."

Mac sighed, shaking his head in an attempt to fend off a headache of his own, knowing any attempt at disputing his partner’s assurances would be met with even more of an argument. Jack had passed up the easy-going, malleable, trusting stage of the drug while on the plane ride home and had moved on to his typically stubborn, independent brand of healing. Jack was always the one who hated having a big deal made over an injury, much preferring to sneak home and handle things on his own, ideally, without anyone ever knowing he was hurt in the first place. It hadn’t been easy, but eventually, Mac learned to let him, as long as whatever he was trying to hide wasn’t too serious.

This was not one of those times.

“You can sleep it off just as easily at my place as you can your own. Come on, Jack. You’re exhausted and hurting and dealing with one hell of a hangover. You’re crashing with me for the weekend whether you like it or not.”

“You really ain’t gonna back down from this one, are ya?” Jack’s shoulders slumped in defeat. “No point in wasting the energy lockin’ horns over it?”

“Would you let me?” Mac asked gently, trying to make Jack see his side of things. “If I had gone through what you did back there and was feeling as miserable as you are right now, would you let me go home alone if I asked? No way. You’d be right there, hovering and keeping watch.”

“But I’m a damn hypocrite,” Jack offered a weak smile, letting his arm drop to rest on the pillow above his head, squinting at the dim light. “You shouldn’t have to do that. Not for me.”

“If you don’t feel up to arguing then you really don’t want to start that whole mess of trying to convince me that you’re not worth the hassle,” Mac warned, lifting a hand and moving to run it through his hair in frustration before catching a glimpse of the bruising across his knuckles. He had managed to get Jack out of the underground compound, safely to exfil, and last the entire plane ride home and visit to Phoenix Med, so far, without his partner noticing the visible evidence of him breaking their rule about leaving the punching bad guys to Jack and he was hoping to keep it that way. “Cause that’s not one you’re gonna win. Ever. You’re not a bother, you’re never going to be a bother, and it’s okay that you need help every once in a while. It doesn’t make you weak and it doesn’t mean that you’re not capable of taking care of us when we need it. It just means you’re human, Jack.”

“Yeah, well, I don’t like you knowing that,” Jack grumbled, closing his eyes against the wave of exhaustion the conversation had caused.

“And I don’t like knowing that you’re feeling so awful,” Mac countered gently, hoping that pointing out Jack’s current defenselessness wouldn’t backfire. “So come crash at my place for a few days and rest up. It’s not like you weren’t going to be there anyway, right? When was the last time we had the weekend off and you didn’t end up hanging out and drinking my beer?”

“Jokes on you, cause doc said no alcohol for a few days,” Jack teased, offering a weak smile and Mac breathed a sigh of relief, fairly certain he had just won and Jack was done resisting his help. “Not till this junk is completely out of my system. Which sucks cause I’m gonna need something to help me sleep through the nightmares that are comin’.”

Mac was thankful for Jack’s closed eyes because the sudden flash of guilt that flashed across his face was surely visible. “I’m sorry.” The plan hadn’t been one of his best, they both knew that going into it, but Jack had been adamant about being the one taken. Mac would be faster at tracking him down once their mark took his hostage underground, he had argued, then he would be if Mac was the one turning himself in. Apparently, he hadn’t been fast enough.

“No, now it wasn’t your fault,” Jack insisted, hearing the uncertainty and remorse in Mac’s voice. With a wince, he braced himself up on both elbows, ignoring the twinge in each arm from the movement, and forced through the dizziness until he was sitting upright and the room wasn’t entirely spinning around him. “You did your thing. Executed your half of the plan perfectly. None of this is on you. Just scared me, that’s all. We weren’t planning on them drugging me and when I saw that blood,” Jack’s hands mimed air quotes at the word, making Mac smile despite himself, which had been the goal. “I wasn’t expecting that. And right after I was done telling him how much you mean to me, too. You were pretty believable, kid. Remind me of that next time I go complaining that you can’t act your way out of a paper bag.”

“You were telling him how much I mean to you?” Mac looked up from his hands with a smile. “Seriously?”

“Pretty sure I even dropped the L-word,” Jack admitted, face instantly twisting into a grimace. “And since I’m telling you this I’m starting to think that damn drug isn’t quite as far gone as I had hoped. Go on and forget I said that, yeah?”

“Already forgotten,” Mac lied, deciding not to tell his partner that not only had he told Mac himself that he loved him after his rescue, but it had also come up multiple times on the plane ride home as well. “So, you thought one of those rounds actually hit me,” Mac clarified, changing the subject back to their original topic as the pieces of the puzzle began to fall into place. Jack’s overly-clingy, affectionate actions suddenly making more sense.

“Scared me weak,” Jack confirmed, barely able to repress a shudder as he thought back to the moment. There was a hazy film over the memory as it replayed in his mind but it was still enough to leave him rattled.

“I’m sorry,” Mac apologized again, staring down at his bruised hand again, thinking that he deserved more of a reminder than a few bruises that once again Jack was left paying the price for one of his mistakes. “The thought of them drugging you honestly never crossed my mind so I didn’t think of how it would look on your end. I should have found a way to warn you what I was doing.”

“Naw,” Jack shrugged. “You were improvising. You'd think I would be used to that by now.” 

"And I can maybe stop feeling bad about it once you're back on your feet," Mac offered. "Maybe." 

"You're getting stuck spending your weekend taking care of me, that'll more than make up for it." 

"Pretty sure I've been on call for the past few hours already," Mac teased. "Anything you need? What can I do?" Jack had barely opened his mouth, hadn't even formed a word yet before Mac sent him a knowing look. "Other than breaking you out of here before they say you can leave. Cause that isn’t happening." 

Jack wasn't one to ask for help. Especially from the one person he was supposed to be taking care of, but he recognized the look in Mac's eyes. It was the same look he got when he was trying to come up with a plan or when he was working on a project, trying to fix something, and was struggling to get the end result to work out how he had pictured it. His kid was hardwired to help, and now he was trying to help Jack. "Actually, you know what? It's probably just what's left of this stupid stuff he pumped me full of, but I'm kinda cold. It’s cold in here, don’t ya think?" 

"No, but chills is one of the symptoms they said to keep an eye out for," Mac had jumped to standing without even realizing he was moving. "I'll go find you another blanket, okay? You'll be alright on your own for a minute?" 

"I'm good, hoss," Jack assured, laying back down and dropping his arm over his face in an attempt to keep the light from making his headache worse and fought back a smile. "Just gonna hang out here and rest my eyes a bit." 

"I'll be right back," Mac warned, pausing to look back at his partner once he had made it to the door. "Don't do anything stupid like try to sneak out while I'm gone. I've carried you enough today, I don't want to come back to find you on the floor and have to haul you back to bed." 

"Wouldn't dream of it," Jack promised, waving Mac out of the room. It felt like he had only been gone for a moment, barely long enough to actually begin processing how miserable he felt without running his words through an "I'm fine" filter first, when Mac reentered the room, blanket in hand. While Jack hadn't actually needed it, he allowed Mac to fuss over him for a minute, adjusting the blanket just so over him. He was surprised at how nice it actually felt and the thought probably would have slipped past his inebriated senses and into actual words if he hadn't noticed Mac's hand as he reached out to straighten the corner of the blanket. 

"Hey," Jack fumbled, uncoordinated, around the IV lines, the blanket was forgotten as he grabbed onto Mac's fingers. "What's this?" 

"Nothing," Mac ducked his head, silently berating himself for letting his guard down and allowing Jack to catch sight of the bruises. He tugged his hand back out of Jack's grip and crossed his arms, hiding the evidence. Out of sight, out of mind. At least, he hoped. "It's nothing." 

"That don't look like nothing," Jack forced himself back up to sitting, the warm blanket pooling around his waist as any and all personal discomfort was instantly forgotten. He squinted, trying to search back through his cloudy memories of the past few hours. Mac keeping a hand on his shoulder as he sat on an uncomfortable exam table, exposed and on edge, ready to bolt at any given chance. Mac offering up his shoulder as a pillow on the plane ride home when Jack would panic every time Mac was out of his reach. Mac helping him, practically carrying both their weight, as they escaped the twisting maze of dirt floor tunnels. Mac alive, safe and sound, wrapped up in Jack's arms, familiar blonde hair warm beneath his trembling hand. Mac's fist connecting with the terrorist's face... and there it was.

"Thought you were supposed to leave the punching people to me? That was our arrangement, right? Clearly defined roles, you and me." Jack held out a hand, expecting, and waited for Mac to comply. 

Mac's sigh was enough to fluff up the hair falling over onto his forehead but he knew there was no point in hiding it any longer. He held his hand out to Jack. "See? No big deal. A little bruised." 

"And you were just gonna hide this from me?" 

"More like... I was hoping it would fade before you were sober enough to notice," Mac offered a lopsided, sheepish smile. "You had enough to worry about without knowing about this. It's nothing, Jack." 

"You're supposed to tell me these things, pal." 

"I know." 

"No matter what," Jack insisted, turning Mac's hand over carefully in his own, examining it for anything worse than the visible bruising he could see. "I don't care how bad things are on my end, I need to know when something's wrong with my kid. I want to know. You’re my first priority. Always, Mac."

“Honestly?” Mac sighed, dropping down to sit beside Jack on the lumpy hospital bed, tugging his hand out of Jack’s grip again to pull at a loose string on the blanket he had brought. “I didn’t even notice it until I was sitting here waiting for you to wake up. You kinda took top priority for a little while there. I’m starting to get why you always complain that taking care of me is a full-time job.” 

“See, now you’re jokin’ but I really mean it when I say that,” Jack smiled. “But I don’t care how bad I was feeling, you could have told me, buddy. You gotta remember that.” 

“I know. But you can’t be all hovering and overprotective over every little bump and bruise I get unless you take care of yourself,” Mac pointed out. “So I had to take care of you first this time. I’m not going to apologize for that any more than you’re going to apologize for all the hugs.”

“What hugs?” Jack asked with a knowing grin, raising an eyebrow in Mac’s direction. 

“You know exactly what hugs.” 

“Nope,” Jack shook his head, pretending to think back, scratching at the scruff on his jaw. “I don’t remember any hugs. Remembering you promising one though. Guess you owe me.” 

Mac rolled his eyes but leaned into Jack’s open arms anyway. He pressed his forehead into the juncture of Jack’s neck and shoulder. Even though Jack still wasn’t at the top of his game, and Mac would be keeping a close eye on him for the next few days, much to the older man’s chagrin, Mac gave himself a moment to relish in the knowledge that he would be fine. The plan hadn’t been one of his best, and the rescue specifically hadn’t been without its flaws, but it had worked out in the end. 

“You sure you’re okay?” Jack’s voice rumbled from beneath Mac’s ear and he nodded. 

“Fine. But I’m still not helping you break out of here.”


End file.
